


beginnings

by nereid



Category: Hawkeye (Comics)
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-04
Updated: 2014-07-04
Packaged: 2018-02-07 10:20:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1895439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nereid/pseuds/nereid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kate Bishop decides to leave Clint Barton on a quiet Saturday evening, at some point in time between the first grey cloud of the day and the first drop of rain on his apartment window.</p>
            </blockquote>





	beginnings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> I'm sorry, this is not as good as it could've been. I'm sick and didn't have as much time as I planned for this, and I hope you still find something to enjoy in the fic. :)

It's one thing after another after another, they pile up and up and up and fall just short of reaching infinity and then naturally the pile falls apart, falls into pieces and mostly they land straight on top of her and then she's had just about enough of this, thank you very much. 

So: 

Kate Bishop decides to leave Clint Barton on a quiet Saturday evening, at some point in time between the first grey cloud of the day and the first drop of rain on his apartment window. Because she's been doing the dishes for five minutes and he's been lying on the couch, sleeping. 

Because she's not going to be the girl that does someone's dishes while he's too (drunk or tired or) whatever to be awake. 

(No matter the occasionally soothing color of his eyes or the way she sometimes catches those eyes looking at her while he thinks she's not looking.) 

She won't be that girl, so she stops being that girl. (After all, it's called self-preservation, not Clint-preservation.) 

She leaves him a note on the refrigerator. She would've liked it to be funnier than it is, catchy as well, something she'd be proud of, something to tell people, a funny story that she can take for herself from all of this, something material that she could point to and say _that was me, I did this_. She should get something for herself out of this, she should. 

But spending more than two seconds trying to think of a note she's leaving him because she wants to leave him, because he's terrible at noticing she's around, well that would kind of defeat the purpose of the note and the leaving and of everything, really. 

So in the end, the note says _Take care_ and she means it. She does.

* 

There's two options now, really, and quitting the superhero gig isn't one of them. This is still the best job in the entire known universe, which obviously, is becoming more and more every day, but still. Best job, period. So, there are two options she immediately thinks of. Going solo is one of them. Working with someone else, that’s obviously option number two. 

And just then, walking outside of Clint’s building and into her car, she passes by some girls obviously ready for a night out. Inappropriately short dresses, awfully high heels, stuff like that. And it hits her then, it’s Saturday night and she has nowhere to be and nothing to do.

“Fuck it,” she says then to herself, and does the next thing she can think of.

She decides to call Bobbi Morse.

She’s sitting in her car in front of Clint’s building and looking for Clint’ ex-wife’s number. It’s all sort of ridiculous, but she also can’t remember the last time things weren’t at least a bit ridiculous. 

She finds Bobbi’s number finally. She probably had it memorized during some Clint crisis or other.

(There’s a part of her and she’s not sure how big or right that part of her is, that think she’d be calling Bobbi now even if it wasn’t for the whole Bobbi-being-Mockingbird thing. Because Bobbi knows. Bobbi knows what it’s like to have Clint Barton and then stop.)

*

Bobbi picks up on the third ring. She sounds like she’s somewhere quiet.

“Hey, Bobbi, I hope I’m not disturbing you. Hm, it’s Kate, by the way.”  
“No, not at all.”

“I left Clint,” she says and then for a second she’s worried Bobbie will misinterpret and think that they’ve broken up, like there was a romantic relationship to be broken up between them. But, then, Kate realizes - that’s not a lot different than what’s really going on here. So she stays quiet and waits for Bobbi’s response.

“Come over to my place. I have Scotch. We can talk.”  
“Sure. Thanks.”

And just like that, she’s on her way to Bobbi’s apartment. 

Just like that.

*

She read somewhere, probably in some women’s magazine or other, that women mostly dress to impress other women and not at all to impress men, which, when Kate thinks of it now, makes a lot of sense. With Clint, she’s never worried that he’ll think, well, anything at all of her clothing. He’d probably notice if she walked around naked, but she’s not sure a change less drastic would necessarily catch his attention.

But while she’s standing in front of Bobbi’s apartment now, waiting for her to answer the door, she’s suddenly intensely aware of her simple, grey jeans and a purple T-shirt and she wishes she had something else now. Bobbi’s always so beautifully dressed; she doesn’t know how the woman manages it. She only hopes she’ll get there with age as well.

“Be there in a second,” she can hear Bobbi’s voice through the door, and when Bobbi opens the door (not in a second, but almost) she’s wearing only a towel and Kate thinks something like - _wow_ and maybe also _that’s unexpected_.

“Sorry. I was taking a bath when you called and I just got out,” Bobbi says then. Her voice seems softer than usual, but it makes sense, as they’re not talking work now, and they’re allowed to be soft out of work. Even female superheroes need time off occasionally.

They’re still standing at the door for a moment or so, just enough for Kate to set her sight on something that’s not Bobbi’s legs (the hallway behind Bobbi seems a solid enough choice) when Bobbi invites her in.

“I’m being rude, I know, but I swear it’s unintentional. Come in, Kate,” she says. And Kate does.

Bobbi walks and Kate follows and soon they find themselves in Bobbi’s living room.

(Kate falls in love with Bobbi’s legs first.)

There’s an armchair and a sofa, both a gentle yellow, while the rest of the furniture is white. It’s a mix between slick, minimalistic and antique pieces of furniture, and she knows immediately that Bobbi picked the furniture, because it’s just like her.

Bobbi says she’ll bring the booze from the kitchen and she smiles at her quickly before leaving the room and that’s when Kate decides she might just like it here.

*

Things obviously happened afterwards, but they’re mostly a blur to Kate. She blames the Scotch, or specifically the amount of Scotch. She remembers crying and laughing, but that came hours after the crying. She remembers Bobbi’s knees touching hers as she sat on the couch next to her, remembers that she felt worse and worse, and then she started feeling better. She remembers hoping Clint would call and fearing he would. She remembers Bobbi taking her hand in hers, their fingers entwining.

“You’re going to be just fine, Kate,” she said and Kate believed her.

*

When she wakes up, she’s lying on the couch in Bobbi’s living room with an awful hangover.

The worst part’s over, she knows. It’s like quitting smoking, the first 24 hours are the worst.

But Bobbi’s yelling something from the kitchen, asking what kind of eggs she wants for breakfast and it’s stopped raining at some point during the night, and this might just be the best Kate’s felt in quite some time.

She takes a deep breath then, inhales the new life forming around her.

She might just like it like this.


End file.
